


See You Again

by The_Utterly_Clumsy_Ninja



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, All aboard the Feels train, Dealing With Loss, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief, I would have a tub of Ben and Jerry's handy too, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Legends of Tomorrow Team are Family, Len and Mick are husbands, Len and Mick were married, Loss, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Moving On, Multi, Past Coldwave, Referenced/Implied Alcoholism, atomwave, choo-choo, get the tissues ready, loss of partner, mentions of self harm, this may make you cry, trigger warning: self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Utterly_Clumsy_Ninja/pseuds/The_Utterly_Clumsy_Ninja
Summary: After Len's death, Mick was a mess. He deals with grief as best as he can and slowly but surely, gains acceptance.





	See You Again

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small exposition type piece on Mick dealing with the stages of grief in his own way. Title is based off the song "See you again" by Charlie Puth.
> 
> This is mostly Mick dealing with the loss of Leonard but with a bit of fluffy, getting together AtomWave at the end. I would have tissues and a tube of Ben and Jerry's ready just in case.

After Len’s death, Mick was a mess. 

Not that he would ever admit it, not to the team anyway, but the loss of Leonard Snart at the hands of the time pigs and the Oculus had left a hole he couldn’t fill. He tried drowning the ache in his chest, filling it with beer after beer in an attempt to make it hurt less. Mick wasn’t someone who talked about his feelings, he wasn’t the kind of guy who spilled his emotions out and grieved normally. He hadn’t grieved when his parents died, most of those feelings were a mix of guilt and satisfaction in equal measures. He regretted murdering some of the people he had killed but this feeling was new to him. 

The guilt, the grief, and the heartache felt raw in his chest. At the best of times, it was a dull ache, like a sore muscle you received as payment for working out just a little too long the day before. At its worst, Mick’s chest felt split open and raw. The loneliness and pain cracked open his chest and spilled out into the darkness of his room, jolting him from restless sleep as he reached for the other side of the bed for a body that was no longer there. The warmth of his husband's presence next to his was nothing but a sharp memory. 

That wasn’t the only memory either. Each moment he had shared with Len, jagged and sharp like broken glass that lingered in the back of his head. They stabbed into his mind at inopportune times, distracting him with vivid recollections of soft smiles meant only for Mick’s eyes, of nights spent covered in sweat and sheets the only thing covering them from the cool air of the room. Of nights with Len sitting with his legs spread over Mick’s lap, watching his husband get worked up over plays during a football game. 

Mick started making sure he always had a buzz going, trying to keep the memories at bay. His teammates took his habit of locking himself in his room and drinking in the galley as his typical behavior. It was easy to hide from people if you never let them get to know you in the first place. Only Len had ever truly made it past Mick’s walls and Mick would have given anything to have Len back. He almost convinced himself to join Len and wonder if there was truly a life after death. Several times, his guilt reminded him that Len had saved his life for a reason. 

Even if Mick couldn’t see a good reason for someone as broken as he was to keep on living anymore.

Ray, with all his smiles and awkward charm, tried to get Mick to open up. Mick gave the man Len’s gun, trusting him to fill the shoes his husband had left behind. Every attempt that Ray made to become the man Mick once called his partner only made the hurt worse. Ray could never be Leonard Snart and Mick didn’t want him to be. Ray was goodness and light, positive in a world that Mick had learned was cruel and twisted. Despite the attempt, Mick was glad he could call Ray a friend, after all, was said and done. After one of the last remaining bits of Len was destroyed. 

Ray stuck around Mick though, his attempts to befriend Mick getting to him more than the pyro would ever let on. He was secretly grateful when Ray gave him the rat he’d captured on the ship. It was nice to have a pet, something to take care of every day and share food with. He named the little rat, Axel and never revealed how much he actually loved the little creature. Knowing he had something that needed him, knowing no one else would want the rat if Mick was dead, helped him put those thoughts away. 

Then came the vivid hallucinations of Len, those cold eyes goading him and voicing all his fears about remaining on the Waverider. It shook Mick deeper than he thought possible. To hear Len’s voice so clearly in his head, to see the man he loved again but knowing he couldn’t touch him, left Mick closer to tears than he had ever been before. Each word this Len said echoed Mick’s own dark thoughts, voiced his insecurities in the slow, mocking drawl of his husband. The professor tried to help, insisting it was all in his head. Despite the biting comments on Mick’s fragile psyche, he genuinely seemed concerned about the situation Mick was going through. It made it a bit more bearable to have someone to talk to about his grief.

When it turned out that a past version of Len had joined the Legion of Doom, it seemed like all his wishes come true. Len was alive and Mick could once more wrap his arms around his husband. It was like he could breathe again, Mick’s heart finally feeling whole again. Betraying the team was difficult but he did it for Len, his Len. Remaking the world was worth having Len at his side, feeling his husbands lips on his own. Mick spent a year showing Len exactly how much he had missed him. 

But it all went wrong. Everything was wrong with this new world and Mick found himself wondering if betraying the people he had come to care for was worth this hollow imitation of the relationship he had once had. The Doom Len grew crueler, less accepting of Mick then he had once been. He aimed to reign in the former legend, to control the animal he had always accepted as part of Mick. Seeing Amaya, a woman who had befriended Mick and tried to help him out of the darkness, put to death by the hand of his husband who no longer cared that he had hurt Mick...cemented that this was not the life Mick wanted for himself anymore. 

When everything was finally put back to normal, the world how it was supposed to be minus some crazy time stuff, Mick somehow felt emptier than ever. Rip took over the task of fixing the time stream that the Legends had screwed up and left the team with little to do in their proper time. Mick was miserable and now, painfully alone. He had done the right thing and yet...It felt hollow without Len here to share it with him. Anger was the next thing he felt, blinding rage that made him want to light the world on fire but something kept him from letting it all out. 

So he gave himself a vacation. Aruba was warm, a place Len and Mick had always wanted to travel to but never found the time to plan a trip to. In his anger at Len for leaving him, Mick decided he would enjoy it to punish Len for leaving him. The tourist hotspot was full of everything Mick normally used to battle the monster his anger made him. He would drink hard every night, drink in the morning to stave off the hangover and then made it his mission to fuck any girl who would let him. Mick avoided men because none of them could hold a candle to his Len. The soft edges of the tanned college girls and prostitutes were a far cry from the scarred, muscled body of his husband. It should have helped but it didn’t.

When the crew got back together, the rage cooled ever so slightly. Mick had an outlet again and it seemed like the rest of the crew were starting to treat him better. Maybe they wanted to avoid doing what had driven him to betray them before or maybe they actually cared about him. He didn’t care as long as he was able to light things on fire and be of use again. The guilt of letting Len sacrifice himself melted away, the rage cooling and the episodes of depression becoming less. 

Mick told himself he didn’t need Len anymore. He denied that he had ever needed him before as Mick threw himself into things he wanted to do, threw himself into being a somewhat useful member of the team. He could be the muscle, the wild card. The crew began to rely on him for things and slowly the trust built again. He still thought about Len, the nightmares still plagued him but he squashed the memories with alcohol and distractions. 

He was grateful for Sara, a strong captain, and friend who Mick could follow. She didn’t demand his allegiance like Rip or the Doom Snart had. She earned it by being tough, fair and strong. She was honest and open, treating even Mick like an equal rather than a dog kept on a leash. Nate, who Mick ended up leaning on more than he wanted to when they were in Vietnam. Old wounds Mick had long left alone to fester suddenly massed against him and Nate caught him in a weak moment not even Len had ever been able to stop. Nate, for all his insults and distrust of Mick, helped Mick finally let go of the demon that left him with nothing but raised scars and blackened skin. 

When Zari joined their little rag tag group, Mick could see someone like him. A person who lost everything to a world that hated people like her. He and Amaya both agreed that Zari needed the team, needed a family just as much as they themselves did. Mick helped extend the hand and the tough young woman had taken it. Mick decided he liked her, her sarcastic and tough outer shell reminding him of Len and Lisa both if he let himself think about it too much. He would never admit it to her face though. 

Oddly enough, Mick found a routine with Ray. Doing laundry at the same time, cooking in the kitchen and moments in Ray’s little tech lab the man had set up in his room. Mick started to notice things about Ray that he had been too preoccupied to see before. Soft smiles meant only for Mick, those pretty eyes that looked at Mick with some kind of emotion Mick was sure he didn't deserve. Ray was soft but strong, somehow untainted by all the heartbreak he had experienced. Where Mick was jagged edges and blunt words, Ray was gentleness and empathetic understanding. Time together slowly drew Mick out of the shell-shaped wall he had built around himself. Ray would never be as deep as Len had once been but Mick found himself running out of reasons to keep the man out. He would never admit that he felt something more than friendship though. 

But then the loss of the professor hit everyone hard. Mick felt the latest wash of grief take him over but this was different from the loss of Len. After their stint as mock therapist and patient, Mick had developed a soft spot for Martin. The tough, intelligent man left a hole in the crew that couldn’t be filled and it was felt throughout the ship. He did his best to help Jax, the kid did have a psychic connection with the professor. Mick knew what it felt like to lose a partner, even if his relationship with Len had been different from the one Jax shared with Stein. While it wasn't completely the same, Jax seemed eased by Mick’s own grief, comforted that he wasn’t alone in how he felt. They were a crew and a family, the loss of their own would shake them but nothing would break them. Mick did his best to keep the pain from both Stein and Len’s death from showing through his armor walls. 

Until that Fake Snart decided to butt in, with his insistence on talking about their grief and holding onto some kind of hope that Mick’s Len didn’t have. Somehow, whatever Lewis had done to Len on Mick’s earth had broken the man in a way Nazi’s on another earth couldn’t do to Leo. Mick shunned him at first, not wanting to see the man wearing the face of his dead partner. Too many memories in those stormy blue eyes and words of comfort that would have never been said by Len. He was infuriated by Leo’s attempts to “fix” him, hating that this Snart couldn’t just leave him alone to self-destruct. He wouldn’t admit that Len would have never allowed Mick to fall to his inner demons either but Leo and Len’s approaches to handling Mick’s brokenness were as different as night and day. Len understood Mick better than Leo did. 

But they found solid ground in wanting the other to be more like the person they had lost. Mick knew deep down he wanted for Leo to be like his Len. He wanted to look at Leo and see the man Mick had married all those years ago before it was legal but all they wanted was to be together. Leo talked about his Mick, a man that was kind, a man that listened and cared deeply for those around him in ways Mick wished he could. Mick found himself wishing he could be that kind of man.

“But you are that kind of man.” Ray had said, one night sitting in Ray’s little lab. Mick had looked up from the chair he was sitting in, pretending he hadn’t been watching Ray pour over some little piece of tech for his suit with the light of the desk shining on his face. “A little less obvious sure but I know you care and I’m sure everyone else does too.” Mick had been silent after that, grunting in his way. Ray didn’t push it and Mick was grateful for that. 

Mick agreed with Leo on one thing. He still loved Len and no amount of denial or burying would ever change that. Mick would still wear that silver pinky ring that Len had kept from their first heist on a black cord around his neck and he would still wake up in the middle of the night, reaching for a man who wasn’t there. The realization made Mick hurt again but this time, he let it. He locked himself away for a day, so caught up in his head that he forgot to eat. All he could do was stare at the ceiling and rolling the ring between his fingers until Ray knocked on the door. 

“Are you okay?” Ray had asked in that soft way Mick finally let himself admit made his heart flare and ache. “I brought you some food since Gideon said you haven’t been to the galley all day. Which is weird for you, you normally always have food in your mouth...” Ray held a plate with one hand, ladened with a few of Mick’s favorite foods and the other held a case of beer. When Mick didn’t move, Ray went to set the items on the table next to his chair. 

“I’ll leave you alone then,” Ray stated slowly, as if unsure he was welcome until a gloved hand reached around his wrist. Ray stiffened for only a moment before relaxing and meeting Mick’s eyes with those same emotions that Mick couldn’t place swimming in them. 

“Stay.” was all Mick had to say before Ray was sitting on the other couch. They ended up talking for a few hours, more Ray talking than Mick but the older man took comfort in listening to Ray speak. Len had been quiet, happy to simply sit with Mick and let the silence stretch over them. Len and Mick both took comfort in the silence. But Ray filled the silence with talk, winding sentences that filled the space Mick left open. Ray didn’t expect Mick to return the conversation with more than the occasional grunt of approval. It was different but not unwelcome. 

Leo must have sensed the change, his sharp eyes just as observant as Len’s had been. His words after announcing his departure to propose to “My Ray, not your Ray.” told Mick that he approved and for all it was worth, it comforted Mick. It was almost as if he saw his Len giving him permission to move on, to be happy and appreciate the life Len had sacrificed himself for Mick to live. For just a moment, he could almost see his husband in those familiar yet completely different eyes. 

Mick started writing after that. He poured himself into typing out the ideas that circled in his head, using it as an outlet for the feelings and hopes he had. He kept the typewriter and pages hidden behind traps, fragile hopes typed out slowly onto blank pages. The hope for something more to his life slowly growing in his chest and growing into something that Mick would safely guard. He didn’t want anyone to see it, didn’t want to risk losing one of the few things that helped him feel better and eased the slowly ebbing hurt in his chest. Ray didn’t even know nor did he ask. Ray had learned that Mick would do what he needed to do in his own time and it was best to just let Mick move at a pace he was comfortable with. 

Vulnerable was never something Mick let himself be. Len had made the first move initially, his confidence something Mick learned to love about the man and something he had envied since that first meeting in juvie. He wished he could muster the confidence to put himself out there but still keep some things hidden as well as Len did. Len never made a move before it was time, always patient and calculating. Mick had never possessed that talent. He was a man of action, a man as relentless as a wildfire. When he did something, Mick consumed everything in his wake. So he held back, tried to find the right moment just as Len would have done. Mick wasn’t about to let himself make any moves before he was absolutely certain of the outcome. 

He honestly hadn’t meant to kiss Ray. It was just typical downtime on the Waverider, Mick standing next to Ray as the man sat at his desk. Ray was rarely frustrated by something but this magic gun had him at his wit's end. It was more than whether or not the gun would work against Darkhe and his crazy witch of a daughter. Mick knew Ray was afraid of having to use it if Sara lost her fight against Mallus, of what he would have to do if the demon took control of their beloved captain. Ray wasn’t a killer like Mick, he didn’t want to take the lives of even those who deserved it. How could the man with so much good in his heart even consider taking the life of the woman who had done nothing but care for each of them? Was he even capable of something so cruel?

Mick could see the doubt and insecurity rising in those pretty brown eyes and reached over to place his large hand over Ray’s. It had covered Ray’s like he used to do with Len when the man was lost in his head. Mick wasn’t sure why he had done it exactly but he couldn’t just let someone like Ray feel that crushing weight of the inevitable horror that life wanted to wave in front of them. Ray shouldn’t have to be forced to become someone like Mick. The man’s grip on the piece of tech he was tinkering with loosening enough for Mick to pull the warm hand away from it and the man to look up at Mick with wide eyes. Mick rarely initiated gentle touches, was never one to offer comfort.

“Take a break, Haircut,” Mick said, voice gruff and low. Ray bit his lip, staring up at Mick with a small blush decorating his cheeks. Whatever words Mick had been preparing to say after that fell away as their eyes locked. Mick could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the only sound he could hear in the silent room of a quiet ship. The seconds passed into nearly a solid minute before Mick found himself pressing his lips to Ray’s. The briefest of touches that somehow left Mick’s chest filled with fire. 

Ray stared at him with surprise and several more moments passed. Not enough to make a difference in real time, but enough to make Mick feel his walls go back up. Mick’s heart felt cold, knowing he had messed up one of the few good things he still had yet again. Mick started to pull away, mind darkening with thoughts of his own stupidity and hurt flaring up in his chest. It squeezed tightly and stole his breath until Ray’s other hand was placed shakily over Micks to hold it on top of Ray’s. Mick looked at their hands for a moment before moving to Ray’s eyes, searching and guarded as Ray’s face lit up with that soft smile Mick was so fond of. 

“Stay?” Ray asked, voice soft and inviting. Mick’s hurt loosened and his mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles. A rough palm moved up to Ray’s cheek, for once free of gloves and put his fire-scarred hands on full display. Ray’s eyes went half-lidded at the touch, leaning into it in a way that Mick could only describe as cute. 

“Yeah.” 

Mick didn’t sleep alone that night. When he awoke from the nightmares, long arms wrapped around him and held him close. Soft words whispered of safety and home, pulling him out of the darkness and back to the ship. It wouldn’t make the pain of the past go away, it wouldn’t erase his mistakes or make the memories of all he had lost disappear. But as he turned in Ray’s arms to press his face to the man’s bare shoulder, pulling Ray closer and letting himself breathe in the comfort that Ray’s scent could bring, he could let himself move on from it. He could let himself hope that life could be better; that he could be better. 

Mick may have been broken down by the harsh severity of life but here, on the Waverider with his lover's arms wrapped around him, he knew he was worthy of being fixed.


End file.
